Reunions
by red lilies
Summary: Reunions are always a volatile affair. When it's between two Spectres, it's no different. Except the explosions are real. And numerous. FemShep/Nihlus, AU
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own anything pertaining to ME in this story.

* * *

She worked it out the third time she took the hit. Nobody fired three concussive shots in a row on purpose. Well, at least not when they were supposed to be killing you. Shepard slid down the wall, popping a heat sink. If that was the way he wanted to play it, she could play. With practiced fingers, she loaded an overload in her omnitool, and, without bothering to look, charged out from cover.

She caught the turian off guard, right as he maneuvered between cover. It helped that he held intimate knowledge of her fighting style and probably had expected her to follow her usual pattern. If she had been fighting any random turian, she would have. But knowing your opponent's fighting preferences was a weakness as much as it was a strength. By changing it, Shepard gained the upper hand. It also helped he had not been in a firefight with her for over a year.

The overload knocked out his shields and she slammed into his armored frame without a moment's hesitation, sending them both sprawling. Neither bothered trying to get up, simply letting the fight stay on the ground. They each knew wasting the time to get to their feet let the other do the same and the first to manage it would win. An elbow connected with Shepard's helmet, making her ears ring. Her knee landed a solid hit to his less protected side. She followed it with a double jab to his armpit. His hiss was audible, but he did not flinch, instead clamping his arm to his side, trapping her hand. He rolled, using the momentary advantage of her lost hand and taking it without hesitation.

He straddled her, and released her trapped hand in order to bend the arm backward in a painful arm lock. This time she made the hiss. It did not stop her from smashing her head into his, giving her just enough freedom to twist, and lessen the pressure on her arm. The motion also exposed his neck for an instant, just enough time for Shepard to slam her free hand into it. He jerked back hard and far enough for her to slither out from him. He still held her wrist though, and he pulled up, removing her use of the floor as leverage.

She moved with the motion, the chest of her armor meeting his, helmets face to face.

"Shepard," he greeted, twisting her arm. She felt a stab of satisfaction at his heavy breathing.

"Bastard," she replied, using her free hand to grab his before he could smash it into the side of her head.

"Bastard? A little harsh, after everything we've been through together, don't you think?"

"You shot me!"

"And you shot me, if I recall correctly."

Shepard growled in frustration. The turian pushed his helmet against her's, effectively preventing her from gaining momentum for another head butt.

"You knew it was me when you fired!" She accused. "This was my mission! Do you know how many merc and bounty hunters I went through to get this far? And then you shoot me and expect me not to think you were just another one?"

"Actually, I didn't know it was your mission. I assumed you worked for Harper. I only realized it was you after you did the trick with the exploding vents. Very nice by the way."

"You still shot me twice after that."

His chuckle did not help his case. "What can I say, I like watching you run like your tail's on fire."

Shepard growled again, but there was less heat this time. "I should have shot you with incendiary rounds."

"That wouldn't have been very nice," he commented. "Are you going to let me go?"

"Depends – you going to let _me _go?"

Both of them released each other abruptly. They did not separate however. Shepard felt a hand ghost up her side and come to rest on her shoulder, and the other settle on her waist. She could not chastise, considering her own hands had moved to sit on his chest. He chuckled again.

"Did you miss me?"

"Like I would miss a boil," she responded.

"Liar."

She did not deny it. "So what are you doing out here, if the Council didn't send you as back up? Hell, what are you doing back out of the Terminus? Last time we spoke you said you had a plan that was going to remove the red sand problem we'd developed in Council Space."

"I did. And do. Guess who's running the red sand?" he asked.

"Fuck. Harper's got his fingers in a lot of pies." She hit the outside of his armor softly. "Ass. If you were going to becoming back, you should have sent me a message."

"What, and miss you trying to bash my head in? What fun would that be? Besides, I thought you were still playing tag with pirates in Alliance space."

She shrugged. "Council called, said they had a pressing problem. And being the only human Spectre, I likely was the only one who could infiltrate the station without causing a ruckus."

"And of course," he said, "you took infiltration to mean kill everyone in your path and - correct me if I'm wrong - blow up the southern sector?"

"Infiltration was the word when the Council though the station was full of civilians. Not mercs. Makes sense now with the red sand info."

The conversation stopped as both picked up the telltale sounds of someone trying to get through the pair of blast doors Shepard had jammed.

"I though you killed everyone on your way in."

"Apparently I missed some," she said grimacing, not that he could see the expression. She stood and he went with her, hands still lingering. "Harper should be in the next room. Stay."

"What am I, a varren?" he asked, amusement coloring his voice.

"You are a kill stealer," she answered, heading for the silent door off to her right. "And Harper is mine."

"He could have more mercs in there," he said innocently, following her. "I wouldn't want them to have to face you alone."

She huffed, but did not argue, instead taking up position on one side of the door. He mirrored her. She gripped her previously ignored gun, and gave a curt nod. His omnitool flashed and the door slid open.

There were mercenaries, just like he had suggested. He darted into the room, trusting Shepard to provide cover. She did, effortless picking off two with headshots, before moving into the room herself. Thirteen months, four days since they had last been on a mission together and yet they fell into rhythm instantly. The mercenaries never stood a chance. In seconds it was just Harper and two Spectres.

"I-I'm sure we can work something out," the balding man stammered, backing up against the desk. "I have money – weapons – drugs! You can have any of it, just don't kill me."

"I don't think he understands the situation, Shepard."

"No, I don't think so either. Hey, Harper, do you know how many deaths you've caused in the last year? Running drugs, supporting terrorist bombing on the Citadel, smuggling weapons – do I really need to go on?"

Harper glared. "I doubt I've killed as many as you have, bitch."

Laughter came from her left. "Oh, he has you there, Shepard. Of course, she does it with flair – that makes all the difference."

"No, what makes the difference is I only kill people who are really, really asking for it. Or shoot at me. Or shoot at someone I like. On occasion I've been known to kill turians who think it's funny to knock out shields instead of just saying hi."

Harper stared at the pair. "Who the fuck are you people?"

"Commander Shepard, Special -"

Harper moved fast, pulling a gun, and firing. Unfortunately for him, his aim could use serious work, and both the Spectres present had fired as soon as Harper had twitched.

"Fuck, I told you he was mine, you bird!" Shepard snarled. "Your headshot blew his head off! I hate bring decapped bodies back to the authorities."

"He was going to shoot you. I was defending your body."

Shepard's swears told him exactly what she thought about that.

* * *

**A/N:** Written for prompt on the mass effect kinkmeme, a request for harmless fun between Shepard and Nihlus.

Rated for violence and language.


	2. Chapter 2

"How many?" Shepard asked, crouching beside the open door.

"I'd say half a dozen," her companion replied, adjusting the setting on his rifle.

"Why don't you take a peek and get an accurate number," she suggested.

"And risk scuffing my beautiful helmet? I just replaced it, you know." He looked anyway, pulling back just as bullets pierced the air where his head had been. "Seven."

"Guess your estimate was wrong."

He looked out again, this time firing two short burst from his rifle. A thud sounded and he returned to cover.

"Half a dozen," he said smugly.

Shepard rolled her eyes. "Show off."

"You're so hard to please."

"Some people have standards. What's the layout?"

"Two on the upper walkway – one a sniper. A heavy behind the steam tanks on the right. Last three are using the piping coils in the middle for cover. One's an engineer. Impressed now?"

"Can you tell me their eye colors?"

"I liked you better when you still were in awe of me."

Shepard snorted. "And I liked you better when you still pretended to be silent and hard assed. Move on my count?"

He gave her a nod, and she leaned out, firing at the steam tanks. A flash of color in the corner of her eye signaled her partner moving forward. He shot as he ran, taking out the sniper before the mercenary could take the shot at Shepard. His long legs crossed the floor quickly, but cover was sparse, and Shepard saw his shields flicker out of existence just as he slid into a gap between some pipes and a radiator. He needed time.

Shepard rerouted more power from her omnitool, giving her shields a slight boost and moved, exposing herself to draw attention. Hot steam hissed from the holes she had made in the tanks, obscuring her view of the heavy. A rocket burst from the steam, reveling the mercenary's location and she rolled sideways, blindly activating an overload at the spot it had come from. A scream let her know that her aim was true, as the steam, no longer held back by shields, hit the heavy at full force.

The sound of her own shields breaking pushed her forward, ignoring the desire to retreat back behind the wall. Her competitive side would likely get her killed one-day, but today she merely took a hit to her shoulder before she slammed into a pipe coiling.

A snort came across the comm. "Very graceful."

"Thanks, I try." Her shoulder went numb, a sign her armor had activated her medigel.

"We're down to two in the pipes. I got rid of some while you were playing target." He appeared on her left, moving forward and grabbing the salarian engineer who had moved to far out of cover. He snapped his neck. "Never mind. Just one."

"Good to know you're still useful."

"There's more. I've got new contacts appearing on my sensors. Someone called for back up."

"Fuck. Didn't anyone tell these guys their boss is dead?" Shepard checked her ammo. Low, but enough.

"I'm thinking Harper might have a partner we missed. Or they are pissed I blew out the engines on their transports."

"Now why would you go and do that?" Shepard asked in a growl. If he had blown out all the transports, that probably included hers. Prick.

"The ships were being loaded with shipments. I didn't want to let them get away. I planned to get rid of this problem in one go, not flounder around after the escapees."

Shepard caught movement behind some pipes and opened fire. The movement stopped. "How long to we have?"

"A minute. Maybe two. They're moving pretty quick. We could take the walkways back to the shuttle bay. Might avoid more that way."

"Not an option. They only go part way."

"You've got schematics of the station?" he asked, surprise clear.

"You _don't_?"

"Hey, who's the one with the better sensor? I spend my funds my way, you yours."

Shepard sighed. "You haven't changed."

"I like thinking on my feet. Keeps the mind limber. Heads up."

The reinforcements entered the room and met bullets. The first two dropped, and the remaining scrambled for cover. Except for the krogan. He just roared.

"Krogan," Shepard was informed.

"You think?" She did not pull back, simply kept firing at the now charging krogan.

"Shepard."

She ignored him, still firing. The krogan's armor broke and blood sprayed. It did not slow.

"_Shepard!_"

Four feet. She kept firing. Two feet. One foot. Something slammed into her from her left, sending her sprawling, armored turian on top. He twisted, tossed a pair of grenades, and covered her head. The resulting explosion shook the room, and, by pure luck, overloaded one of the radiators. _That_ explosion took out a good portion of the room, and collapsed the wall with the blast doors and part of the ceiling. The krogan did not make it, nor did the other mercenaries taking cover by the now fallen wall.

"I softened him up for you though," Shepard said.

"Spirits, Shepard, what were you thinking? What were you going to do when he reached you? Head butt him?"

"Seeing how my head didn't break on your thick skull, yah, that might have worked."

"Shepard."

She wiggled, trying to get out from under him, and he sighed, rolling off. Shepard glanced at the back of his armor and winced at the damage. "Your armor's shot. You'll have to buy a new set."

"Better my armor than you," he muttered. "I thought I beat that reckless streak out of you."

"I wasn't being reckless," she replied hotly. "His friends weren't going to shoot me while I had his attention, and I would have taken him. I ran with a krogan for a few months recently. Learned a few tricks."

"I'm sorry then. Next time I'll let the krogan beat you into process paste."

"I would appreciate that. Besides, remember who it was that tried to play one man army on a Blood Pack base just because he thought it would impress the asari commando he wanted to get into bed?"

He snorted and some amusement snaked back into his voice. "I remember. I also remember she was more impressed with your intervention with the rocket launcher. Honestly, I couldn't take you anywhere."

"Not my fault asari go for the better deal."

"Right," he drawled, glancing around the destroyed room. "Hmm, we're going to have to take the walkways. Our other exit is blocked."

"Thanks to you."

"I try."


	3. Chapter 3

Shepard hated vents. Whoever had invented them should be shot, in her opinion. Always just large enough that she could fit, but barely and with much suffering. She also never liked leaving her weapons behind, even knowing that they at least would not be alone. She forced her way around a tight corner, swearing as the movement tug at the wound in her shoulder.

"Everything ok in there?" His concern would have been touching, if amusement had not laced the question.

"Just peachy," she answered tartly. "I'm about halfway to the security center."

"You are going to actually make it sometime in the next –"

"Finish that sentence, I dare you," she warned. "I don't see your scaly ass in here."

"I would never fit, you know that. Besides, I know how much you like vent crawling."

She picked up her pace, ignoring her screaming muscles. Shooting him would be hard unless she got out and got her guns back. "Why is it that every time we are on a mission together you find someway for me to end up in the vents?"

"Maybe I just like the idea of you on your hands and knees."

She definitely was going to shoot him. "There isn't enough room for me to be on my hands and knees, asshole." Something moved in the shadows ahead. "Oh fuck."

"What? Shepard?" This time, his concern came across honestly.

"Tell me you don't have anything on you sensors." She shifted slightly, trying to find a way to get leverage for a punch, a jab, _anything._ Next time, her pistol came with her, even if it meant it would take twice as long to crawl with one hand.

"I've got nothing. Shepard, tell me you aren't in there with a cloaked infiltrator."

She doubted it, considering she had not been shot yet. Or maybe her opponent left their guns behind too. Gathering her courage, she hit the high beam on her omnitool, flooding the area in front of her with light. The black shape charged.

"Holy fucking shit!"

"Shepard? Shepard! Talk to me."

"I'm ok, I killed it."

"It?"

"Yah," she said, still staring at the large carcass in front of her. She had to hit it against the wall four times before it stopped moving. And stab it with her omniblade. The thing must be the size of her head. Bigger. With fangs. She was pretty sure those counted as fangs. She supposed it was a rat, but she had never seen one that big. Space clearly had been good to the Earth rodents. "I think it's a rat."

"A what? Hold on, I'm looking it up." A pause. "Really Shepard? It looks kinda cute."

"Try looking up space rat," she suggested starting to move forward again as quickly as possible. She did not want another encounter.

"I can't believe you screamed. You'll face down a krogan, but not some Earth fuzz ball? I thing I want one as a pet."

"It came at my face! And the size of this thing – I swear it –" she stopped at the sound of snickering over the comm. He thought it was funny did he? Shooting him would not be enough.

A few minutes later she reached her destination, sighing with relief. She knocked out the grating, and slid out, not even bothering to see if the guards were dead liked promised. They were, two humans, one with a neat hole in his head, the other who looked like he had gone a couple of rounds hand-to-hand with a turian. Probably because he had.

"I'm in," she said. "You made a mess in here earlier. Sending the lift. Bring my guns."

"Shouldn't they bring me? Considering you left them in charge?"

She snorted, typing away at the console. "I didn't leave them in charge."

"You told them to 'Stay here and make sure he doesn't get his ass shot'. I didn't get any instructions other than 'Stay quiet. Laugh once and I will shoot you.'"

"And we can see which one of you follows orders. No wonder I leave the difficult ones to the guns." She sat in an empty chair, and started pulling up security feeds. The station looked like it had been through hell.

"I think you just like giving orders," he replied. "Isn't that why you run with a team now?"

She flipped through the videos. "Who told you that?"

"Bau did. Why didn't you?"

"You never asked. Besides, it's not new information, or all that important. Not all of us 'do better on our own'. Some of us like to have back up."

Silence was her response for a while. Then, "I don't always like to work alone. I just – "

"I know. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to poke at old wounds."

"They're old for a reason, Shepard," he replied dryly. "What happened with Saren happened ages ago. And I don't regret the choice I made then. Just the one I made later."

"Hell, don't go all reflective on me now. I understood then. What I said still stands, if you ever –"

"Change my mind, I'll let you know," he finished, his voice no longer just over the comm. He came up beside her, peering at the videos. "Spirits, you did a number on this place."

"Says the man responsible for the bodies in here," she snorted. He waved a hand.

"Had to figure out where Harper made his hidey-hole somehow. Not all of us are blessed with schematics. Besides, if I hadn't taken care of them earlier, you would have had to now. That is, assuming the _rat_ didn't get you first."

That reminded her. "Hey," she said and waited for him to turn to her before flinging her surprise.

He jerked, drawing and shooting impossibly fast. No time to aim, however, and he only clipped the carcass before it hit his helmet. Shepard snickered as he swore and flicked it off, while taking a few steps back hastily.

"Spirits, what is that thing?'

"Space rat," she answered, still laughing.

He stared at the spot where it landed. "I take it back. All of it. Spirits, are they usually that size?"

"Not to my knowledge."

"Spirits," he repeated. "That's it. When we get off this station, I'm blowing it up. We can't afford to unleash that sort of thing on the galaxy."

Shepard wholeheartedly agreed.


	4. Chapter 4

They had two floors to transverse to get to the intended docking bay. One heavily damaged, and the other which both of them had previously skipped due to being full of mechs, with the dock itself.

"At least any remaining mercs haven't found my ship yet," he pointed out when Shepard groused about the situation.

"If you hadn't blown up our intended escape route, it would have been half the time. Maybe a quarter," she retorted waspishly. The damaged hall really slowed their progress. It got on her nerves. "Plus, you're out of ammo, I'm down to my last two clips, and we have a room of mechs to bypass. Somehow."

"So we get inventive. You always liked inventive."

Shepard snorted, ducking under a group of exposed wiring. "Maybe I've changed. Maybe I like simple now. In and out, no fuss, no muss."

Laughter drifted back to her. "You? Our first mission you blew up half the moon!"

"Lies! It wasn't even a fourth. And besides, Eden Prime was our first mission and I didn't blow anything up."

"That's because there was nothing to blow up on Eden Prime, it was a simple recovery mission. And it was not our first assignment. It was a test for you to see if I really wanted be your mentor."

"You never told me that," she said, scrambling over a piece of fallen wall. A hand waited for her on the other side, but she ignored it, dropping to the ground. The hand disappeared with a sigh.

"Never came up. Despite your penchant for being noisy, I typically enjoy my privacy and give the same to others."

"So what did I dazzle you with that made you decide to take me?" she asked quietly. "I wouldn't have thought a simple pick up job like Eden Prime did much to demonstrate my skills."

"It wasn't you skills I was looking at – it was you," he answered. They came up on a locked door and Shepard began to decode it, saying nothing and hoping he would go on. He did.

"You were going to be a Spectre candidate, I just had first rights for you potential teacher. And, as you know, mentorship takes a long time. Field training is intense and stress inducing. I had to make sure we wouldn't clash fatally."

"So you liked me from the beginning?"

"Not that way I didn't." The statement came out low and close to Shepard's ear. It took a wealth of self-control for her not to shiver and focus on her task. She knew there was no way to actually feel the heat of his body through their armor, but it somehow ghosted there anyway, a warm presence on her back. He kept talking. "But I knew you would do the work and not cause problems. Well, not personal problems anyway. I didn't know about your love of explosions and damage then."

She almost had the door. "You were so stiff and formal. The epitome of a calm, collected, know-it-all teacher. I blew stuff up to damage your calm. I wanted to see you crack."

"I figured that out," he said dryly.

"And yet, I still managed to draw out that rebellious snark you like to pretend doesn't exist."

The door clicked, signaling the bypass finishing and Shepard made to move. A three-fingered hand on her shoulder stopped her. She turned slightly to look at the blackened visor of his helmet.

"I don't pretend it doesn't exist," he said in that low, two-toned voice that she had so missed. "I just don't show it to very many people."

Her fingers itched to unclasp his helmet. To let her see his face. To trace those white marking. To feel his skin and plates. She swallowed.

"You know, I'm sure others wouldn't mind seeing it. You creeped the hell out of my crew with your piercing gaze and silence. They could have done with a post-it about you being friendly."

"Is that what you think I'm doing? Being friendly?" he rumbled.

"I think you're trying to seduce me," she answered softly. "In the middle of the mission, surrounded by debris and flickering lights."

"Hmm, sounds mood killing," he admitted, but did not move. "So tell me, is it working?"

In response, she leaned foreword, pushing her helmet against his. He growled, pushing back, pushing her back until she hit resistance.

"This really isn't a good idea," she murmured.

"I checked the scanner. No hostiles." His hands hovered over the clasps to her suit. "Tell me to stop and I will."

"We – "

"Attention intruders. We have your ship. There is no way off the station for you. Surrender now, give us the code to your ship, and we will not vent the station."

The pair froze and shared a combined sigh. They should have shut down the station's open comm. while they were in the security center.

"Well," Shepard muttered, "_that_ certainly killed the mood. Sounds like you missed some on your way in."

"I won't miss them on the way out," he growled. He unholstered his rifle and opened the door.

"You sound angry," she commented following him. "Like you are carrying some stress."

"Keep that up and I'm going to leave you when I go."

"My, my. And they say women are the ones with the mood swings."

* * *

"I don't think this is a very good idea, Shepard."

"It's a fantastic idea," Shepard retorted, eyes narrowed in focus. "Inventive. Didn't you say I was inventive?"

"It's going to let all the mercs at the docks know we're coming," he pointed out dryly.

"You're just jealous you didn't think of it first."

He snorted. "If I had suggested this, you would have threatened to shoot me."

Probably true, considering the current plan had Shepard halfway across the room, upside down, and hanging from the ceiling. She lowered her rigged grenade onto the third heavy mech, moving at elcor speed in hopes of not setting off its sensors.

"One more," she said, straining to fold back up. Her abs screamed in protest at the motion. She resumed her upside-down crawl towards the last mech.

"And then I get to run really fast across the room, hoping I don't get hit by a missile or an exploding mech. I'm starting to think you got the easy half of this plan."

"You know, shooting them would have alerted the mercs too," she pointed out. "And possibly been suicide."

"At least I would have died with a missile to my face and not to my back," came the grumbling reply.

"I happen to like your face," she said, positioning herself over the last mech and beginning the excruciating process over again. "Just the right mount of sharp edges and smooth lines. And what lovely eyes too."

"Commander Shepard, are you trying to flirt with me?"

"Well, since I figure you might die in the next five minutes, I thought you could use one last thrill."

"How thoughtful," he commented dryly.

Shepard neglected to respond, instead pulling up rapidly, swinging once, twice with all her might and landing on the platform in front of the doors. The mech had started to move.

"Run!" she yelled unnecessarily, as he must have taken off as soon as she starting swinging.

A missile fired at her location. She rolled, hitting the detonator in her hand. The mech farthest from her location exploded, then the next, and the next. An armored body slid into cover next to her just as the last one went.

"I think that went well," she commented. Laughter greeted her ears.

"Spirits, Shepard, how is it that one person can create so much destruction?"

"It's a talent."

"And you wonder why you give the Council headaches. The paperwork that must follow you now that I'm not around to curb your tendencies."

Shepard snorted. "I remember a certain turian giving me a lessen in how to rig a helium refinery to nuke a fleet of refueling pirates. Boy, did that make the Alliance Joining Day firework display look like a kid with a match."

"So how you planning to get through the door now that the mercs have locked it?" he asked as a hissing noise started filling the room. "They've started venting the room."

"You come up with something – I'm not your student anymore, I don't have to dance to your tune."

"Shepard, you can do many things, but dancing is not one of them."

Shepard whacked him lightly on the shoulder. "Bad turian. You promised not to mention that."

"Venting room, Shepard."

Shepard sighed and pulled out her pistol, waving it in his face.

"Where did you get that?" he asked. _Who the fuck let you have one?_ was what his voice said. Shepard chuckled.

"I nicked it of a STG member about a month back. Sweet little thing isn't she? I call her Boo."

"Only you would name a pistol that fires grenades after a surprise."

Shepard sniffed. "They're proximity mines."

"Well, you going to use it or not?"

Shepard fired two rounds into the door and watched with satisfaction as they blew, smoke filling the wrecked frame.

She hefted Boo, and gestured gallantly at the door. "After you."

"Ladies first."

They disappeared into the haze.


	5. Chapter 5

Cover dotted the small docking bay, mostly in the form of crates, which meant Shepard got around three to four seconds behind any given cover before it disintegrated under gunfire. The mercenaries on the other hand, crouched behind some lovely, strong-looking, waist high walls. By the destruction of her fifth crate, Shepard decided they all had earned a slow, painful death.

She knocked out a salarian's shields and then frowned when his head exploded.

"Hey! That was mine," she snapped at the turian currently resting nicely in cover. Cover that the mercenaries ignored. Seemed they thought the human made a better target.

"You didn't call him. You call him, you get him," he responded, popping another heat sink.

"Kill stealing jackass."

"So you've said. But it's not like you're getting much of a chance to shoot running around out there." An asari vanguard went down off to her left. "That makes six."

"Five. I'm not counting the salarian. He. Was. Mine." She fired Boo and watched in satisfaction as the blast knocked a pair of mercenaries out of their hidey-hole. She fired twice more and ducked into new cover. "Eight."

"One of them is still twitching. Seven and a half."

"A half? I can't have a half. Eight."

"Half. He is going to die of his burns, not your gunfire. Do you think you can get that annoying sniper in the upper left? I can't a get a bead on them."

Shepard eyed the mercenary in question. "Asking for help? Why, I never thought such a day would come." She switched to her rifle and lined up the shot. Two bursts later the enemy lost a sniper. Shepard also lost her cover and swore, running towards the closest shelter. Bullets peppered her shield and it failed just as she slid into the small area behind the console. If she so much as twitched, her arms or legs would be exposed. At least they would not be able to break this.

"Done," she said, waiting for her shield to recover. "You finally going to move forward?"

"Maybe. I've been toying with the idea. Depends on what there is to head towards."

Shepard snorted. "You've got your pick of flimsy crates. I'm not moving from my console for you. Maybe head straight for the wall – you can punch all the mercs when you get there for me."

"Wasn't talking about cover, Shepard," came the quiet response. Shepard felt her jaw drop.

"You want to have that discussion _now_? This isn't exactly the best time. In case you haven't noticed, there's a good number of people trying to kill us right now."

"There are always people trying to kill us Shepard. Or we are thousands of miles apart. And it isn't something that should be discussed over holovid."

Shepard's shield flickered to life and she leaned out, shooting the bastard who had started firing missiles. Goddamn heavies. Her heart pounded, but she knew it had nothing to do with the fight. Goddamn turian.

"We don't do this, remember?" she said softly. "We don't have heart-to-hearts. We don't say what doesn't need to be said. I already know –"

"I know you know. Commander Shepard knows _everything_. But I wanted to ask, when this mission is over do you want to come to the Terminus system with me for a while? I would – "

"Yes." The answer came without hesitation and with a strong conviction that surprised Shepard herself. She nestled back into her cover and sighed. She should have quipped. Or mocked him. Or made a joke about it. Anything other than showing how much thirteen months of sporadic holo calls and the knowledge that maybe that one last mission might have caused them to lose whatever they had had eaten away at her.

"Good. That's good."

Fuck. The relief and pleasure in his voice was unmistakable. Shepard clenched her hands, irritated at herself - at her goddamn heart for feeling a hell of a lot lighter. "Excellent. If we're done being saps, can we shoot these fuckers and get out of here?"

"As you wish."

Shepard emptied her clip into a mercenary that though he could sneak up on her left. Hard to do on her worst day, and Shepard currently felt better than she had in months.

She checked her ammo and swore. "I'm down to my last heat sink. Please tell me the last few mercs have magically vanished."

"Toss me that last heat sink and I'll see what I can do."

Shepard did not question, just threw it. She knew there was more than one inventive person in the room. The fueling system hanging above the platform the mercenaries crouched behind suddenly felt the wrath of a well-aimed rifle. Shepard found herself grinning even before she watched that final spent heat sink go arcing through the air and land on the now doused mercenaries.

Shields really were finicky things – perfectly good at stopping bullets and rockets but quick to fail under extreme heat. Liquids also passed through easily enough, and so when the shields went down, well, Shepard knew full well starship fuel burned very hot. Nasty, but Shepard lacked sympathy. She respected those who ran security, which was an honest job. Running drugs and slaves on the other hand, that put people on about the level of space rats. Maybe lower – at least the rat had the guts to come after her unarmed.

"Well," Shepard said merrily, "I suppose we can go to the ship now. Unless you feel the need to bask in the glow of your genius."

He flicked a hand at her. "Unlike you, I don't ever feel the need to reassure myself of my greatness. I am a highly decorated Spectre you know."

Shepard made her way around the still burning bodies to the air lock. "An yet, whenever you - ah, shit. Someone breached the airlock. Someone's on your ship."

"I'm calling point," he said, pushing past her.

"The codes to you ship still the same?" she asked instead of arguing.

"Yes, why?"

"Just making sure I can fly this thing after I step over your bullet ridden body."

He snorted in response, and then they both fell silent as the door swished open. Out of ammo, their best chance rested on getting the drop on the wannabe shipjacker.

The ship was small, and they did not have to look far. The asari sat in the pilot's chair, cursing at the VI currently informing her "access denied". Clearly not a tech expert, but she did, however, sense their approach, so Shepard gave the blue bitch some credit.

"Alex, did you take car of those –" the asari cut off mid sentence when she saw exactly who she addressed. "Fuck."

"Yah, I'd say that about sums it up," Shepard replied. The asari eyed the pair of guns pointed at her.

"You going to shoot me, or give me a chance to make peace with the Goddess first?"

Shepard opened her mouth to go for the first option, but her turian beat her too it.

"I'm feeling generous today. You've got five seconds to get off my ship or get a bullet in the head."

The asari did not argue, just took off. Shepard sighed.

"Really? You're going to let her go?"

"Can you check that she made it off the ship?" he replied, sitting in the now vacant chair and hands flashing across the console. "What did you expect – I was going to shoot her with an empty gun? Besides we rigged the station to blow in less than a hour."

"And what if she gets off the station before then?" Shepard asked, trotting down to the airlock and securing it. She checked the outer monitors and watched the asari running across the destroyed dock, not even checking any of her companions. Bitch.

"If she is smart enough to get one of the ships I destroyed running, then she deserves to live."

"You know," Shepard said mildly, taking a quick peek in the ship's three other rooms to make sure they had no other unwanted passengers, "if you keep letting the smart ones go, eventually they might breed and the next generation will be a lot more trouble to kill."

"Well, I wouldn't want to get bored in my old age, now would I?"

The ship rumbled and Shepard felt the familiar momentary vertigo of entering FTL. She made her way back towards the flight deck, pulling of her helmet, and starting to work at the clasps to her gloves.

"Of course not. Because if you breed smart mercs, they'll kill you before you reach old age, you moron," she said, stepping through the door.

A gloved hand snapped out from her right and grabbed her. Shepard found herself pinned against the wall and meeting a pair of very green eyes.

"Bastard, jackass, moron – I'm starting to think you've forgotten my name," he growled. Shepard felt a slow smile spread across her face.

"Me? Forget an important fact like that?"

"Shepard."

"Yes, Kryik?

"_Shepard_."

She laughed softly, one hand reaching up and following the white line under his eye and down his mandible. "That is your name. Wish granted."

"Not all of us hate our first names Shepard. And I happen to like it when you use mine." His voice dropped an octave and Shepard licked her lips. His eyes narrowed. She grinned and leaned in as close to his face as she could get without touching.

"Do you now," she whispered. A beat. Then - "Nihlus."

He rumbled in pleasure and pressed his forehead against hers. Shepard returned the pressure in full, her other hand joining her first on his face. She felt a three-finger hand mimic the motion on her own face.

"Did you miss me?" she asked. She did not say what she wanted too. He knew anyway.

"Like I would miss scale itch," Nihlus responded.

"Liar."

He did not deny it, just pulled her closer and kissed her. Shepard did not complain.

That was a better answer anyway.

* * *

**A/N:** And that's it for this snippet of a different path. Thank you to everyone who took the time to read this story, and special thanks to those who commented, letting me know what they liked and what was working.

I hope this little AU was a fun to read as it was to write. :)


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